


Muggle Studies

by Selly87



Series: The Little Dragon [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 05:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15745500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selly87/pseuds/Selly87
Summary: Draco is trying to figure out how to live without his wand. How will he fare?





	Muggle Studies

**Author's Note:**

> Once I started writing this story had a complete mind of its own. I initially hadn’t planned on taking the story into this direction, but it turns out that it works. Also, it’s given me an idea for another part for this series.

Acutely aware of the fact that his and Harry’s daughter was in the same room, Draco swallowed a particularly nasty string of curses and glared at Harry who tried, but failed spectacularly, not to laugh. Draco’s wand hand twitched nervously, and the urge to curse Harry into oblivion, or to maybe hit him with a powerful stinging hex, grew by the second.

It had only been a week but Draco had most definitely reached the end of his tethers. Harry had been nothing but supportive, and short of offering his wand to Draco — which by ruling of the Wizengamot he wasn’t allowed to do unless he wanted to sacrifice his Ministry position — he’d done everything to help Draco. But Harry wasn’t always home and Draco didn’t quite know how to cope without his wand. His wandless magic skills weren’t nearly as advanced as Harry’s and weren’t at all helpful on a day-to-day basis. Draco hated, no, despised, that he couldn’t use magic to entertain James and having to rely on their two faithful house elves to bring him places was truly driving him mad.

The first day had been the worst, the second day he’d mostly spend moping around the place, leaving anything and everything up to the elves, and on the third day anger started to kick in and he’d been in a foul mood ever since. Foul enough for even Kayda to keep her distance and that was saying something. While Draco had been on his best behaviour around their children, Kayda was definitely old enough to tell that something was amiss. She was that sensitive and Draco suspected she got it from him. He was just better at hiding his sensitive side, whereas Kayda saw no reason to. She was a child, a happy, innocent child. As she should be.

Harry had spoken to the Department of Improper Use of Magic twice but they refused to budge and Kingsley, despite calling the whole trial a ridiculous farce, refused to get involved. He probably figured, what with Harry being Head Auror, he would find a way to take care of it but since the Department of Improper Use of Magic failed to play ball, there wasn’t much Harry could do.

Two days ago the Daily Prophet had gotten wind of the story and headlines such as “Draco Malfoy Forced To Live A Muggle Life” and “Harry Potter’s Husband Goes Wandless — Ministry Order” were front-page news. Harry, what with having some twenty plus years of experience, was quite apt at ignoring the papers. Anytime a reporter approached him with questions he or she was rebuffed with a snarky ‘No Comment’ and that was that.

Draco usually managed to deal with the headlines, he and Harry hardly managed to stay out of them — mostly over the most trivial of things — over the years but being wandless and ridiculed in the papers was more than Draco’s already wounded pride could take. More than a decade into his and Harry’s relationship, Draco had grown a thick skin when it came to the nonsense Rita Skeeter and her pals at the Prophet wrote about them, but this time around he wanted to seriously hex the entire staff of the Prophet for humiliating him so spectacularly. He’d fully expected to receive a howler from his mother after he’d made headlines with his ridiculous punishment, but she’d remained quiet. At first he’d worried she was seriously pissed off with him, but had soon learnt that she simply didn’t care what the papers wrote about him these days. By court order the Prophet (and any other newspaper) was forbidden to print pictures of their children and any stories involving them had to be approved by Harry prior to appearing in print. Needless to say, Harry never gave his approval. While no paper or magazine was allowed to print stories about their children, it didn’t stop the gossip columnists at the Prophet, Witch Weekly and other prominent Wizarding publications to find new reasons to write about Harry Potter and his Slytherin husband. Many years ago the Prophet’s front-page story had read “Harry Potter To Marry Ex-Death Eater In Lavish Ceremony” but Harry had somehow quenched that story and even gotten the Prophet to print a redaction. How he’d managed that was a mystery to Draco and although he’d initially been persisted in his quest to find out exactly what Harry had done, his husband had remained tight-lipped about it. At some point Draco had simply given up trying to get the information out of Harry, although if he was perfectly honest he still cared a great deal about what exactly Harry had on the Daily Prophet, if he even had anything.

A firm squeeze of his wand hand pulled Draco from his unpleasant reverie. While he was glad that Harry was being so supportive, he also wanted to hex him to the moon. “You can do this.” Harry whispered and leaning close he kissed Draco on the lips. It was just a brief kiss but it was meant to reassure and let Draco know that he wasn’t alone in this but that he had a family at his side to help him through his dry spell.

“I’m going nuts.” Draco sighed. Admitting his weaknesses to Harry had long since stopped creeping him out. If anything, being able to share just about anything with Harry made Draco feel stronger, though he would never ever admit that to anyone but his husband. And maybe his mother. Maybe, though unlikely.

“I’ve faith in you.” Harry said and leaning even closer he pressed his mouth to Draco’s ear. “When you get your wand back we’ll go away for a weekend and I’ll leave my wand at home. Just think of all the wicked things you can do to me when we’re alone.” Harry whispered into Draco’s ear and the blond shuddered pleasantly. Pleasant images of all sorts of things he’d be able to do once the Ministry returned his wand to him started to seep into his mind — some were very naughty, others were strangely normal — and Draco had to firmly stop himself from indulging in his fantasies. He wanted to blame Harry for the fact that his trousers were just that little bit more uncomfortable now, but he couldn’t. Somehow his anger had dissipated and for that he was grateful. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Be good.” Harry whispered and drawing away from Draco he made his way over to Kayda, saying his goodbyes. A moment later green flames roared to life in their fireplace and swallowed Harry, who vanished with a loud announcement of his destination: The Ministry.

  
~*~*~*~

  
“Dada!” Kayda stomped her foot impatiently and Draco lowered his book: A Comprehensive Guide on How to Live Like a Muggle. Trust Hermione Granger-Weasley to owl such a tomb to Draco, and although he’d feigned outrage when he’d opened the package yesterday morning, he was actually grateful for the help, not that he ever planned to publicly admit that. Over the years he’d learnt a whole lot when it came to Muggles but there were still many things he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

“What is it?” He asked, hoping his daughter didn’t have another odd request that required the use of a wand. After the Ministry’s decision to revoke his wand for a month, he and Harry had told Kayda a ridiculous story about his wand needing to be checked out for flaws and kinks and that he would get it back in a month’s time. Kayda had believed the story to be true but more often than not she forgot that Draco didn’t have a wand to entertain her with.

“Can we go to Diagon Alley?” She asked and Draco bit back a groan. Harry was away on urgent Auror business, their son was sleeping upstairs, he had no wand and his daughter wanted an outing…to Diagon Alley of all places!

“Can it wait until daddy comes back?” Draco asked. He was certain that there was no point in negotiating with Kayda but he wanted to try either way.

“I’d rather we go today.” Kayda’s expression was so sincere and her words sounded like something Hermione Granger-Weasley might say, not a seven-year-old young witch with too much of an attitude. Draco couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He and Kayda were far too alike…

“Is there anything important you need to get?” Draco enquired.

“I want to go see Uncle George.” Kayda answered, quickly adding a ‘please’ when it looked like her dad was about to refuse her.

“Any particular reason you need to go to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?” Draco wanted to know. He couldn’t think of a good reason why his daughter needed to visit a joke shop but he was prepared to humour her.

“You’ll see.” Kayda replied and Draco wondered — for possibly the millionth time — how it was possible she was in fact only seven years old. Maybe she had in fact been born eighteen years ago and Harry was somehow consistently slipping her an Age-Reducing Potion? Draco wanted to laugh at the insanity of his idea and guessed his inability to perform magic was the reason for his flights of fancy. He sighed and resigned himself to the fact that he would have to bring his daughter and her little brother to Diagon Alley. He could already tell what the Daily Prophet’s front-page would look like come tomorrow: Draco Malfoy Relies On House Elves For Magical Transport.

“We can go when your brother wakes up from his nap.” Draco said and Kayda’s smile grew into a widespread grin. She lunged forward and slung her little arms tightly around Draco’s neck, placing a slobbery kiss on his cheek. This meant I love you, Draco had learnt that a few years ago. He laughed, squeezed her tight and in that instant Draco knew he could manage another three weeks without his wand. He had everything else he needed: his family!

With Kayda still clinging to his neck, like the cheeky little monkey she was, Draco called out for Tibby and the house elf appeared in an instant.

“Master called.” He said very seriously.

“Tibby, I will be taking the children to Diagon Alley after James’ nap.”

“Of course. Tibby will organise everything, Master Malfoy is not to concern himself with anything.”

“Thank you, Tibby.”

“Master need not thank Tibby. Master is too kind.”

Draco rolled his eyes but suppressed his urge to remind Tibby that being kind was perfectly natural. Instead he was pleased to find that Tibby did not appear to look horrified at the sound of a mere ‘thanks’. Then again, he and Elsa were more than used to being treated kindly and with plenty of respect. It was something Harry valued a lot and over the years Draco had learnt his lesson. He no longer looked down upon house elves but admired them. Tibby had been with him since he’d been a little boy and Elsa was a wonderful cook and even better with the kids. Her elven magic ensured that the kids slept soundly each and every night since they’d been born and the mere thought of that reminded Draco that Tibby had probably used the same magic on him when he’d been a little boy for he’d never suffered a single nightmare until the return of the Dark Lord. Apparently some magic was so dark that even elven magic couldn’t counter it. Still, in his heart, Draco knew that without both Tibby and Elsa his and Harry’s lives would be a lot more chaotic than they already were.

Tibby was about to snap his fingers to disappear when Draco held him back as an idea struck him.

“Would you pop by the Manor and ask if my mother is free this afternoon? And if so, would she accompany me and the children?”

“Of course, Master Malfoy. Tibby will leave right away.” The little elf said and with a snap of his fingers and a gentle pop he disappeared and Draco smiled to himself at his ingenious idea. If his mother accompanied him and the children she could activate the Floo with her wand and also open the secret passageway to Diagon Alley. It would cause much less of a stir. Draco highly doubted that last bit, but for the sake of his own sanity he wanted to believe that he could venture out into the public without causing a ruckus.

  
~*~*~*~

  
“Granny Cissi, come.” Kayda grabbed Narcissa Malfoy’s hand and pulled the elderly woman towards the large building that housed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. To Draco’s utter astonishment — and possibly also horror — his mother was laughing and despite her elaborate dress she was walking rather hurriedly in an attempt to keep up with her granddaughter.

Not for the first time Draco found himself confounded by his mother’s behaviour. Sure, she’d been a loving mother to him, but she was aristocratic through and through and loathed public displays of affection and hurrying down Diagon Alley while holding hands with her granddaughter was definitely an overt public display of affection. Draco could hardly remember whether his mother had ever kissed him in public. Then again, his father’s education had been strict and he’d placed high values on keeping one’s emotions away from the public eye. It had taken Draco years to loosen up and lose that ‘pesky Malfoy stiffness’ as Harry liked to call it. As for his mother? She’d remained quite unfazed throughout the years he and Harry had dated, though Draco seemed to remember seeing her dab her eyes when he and Harry had tied the knot. The night Kayda had been born, Draco had watched his mother undergo a transformation that had made him blink, unable to believe what was happening. She’d arrived at the hospital dressed in black slacks and a jumper and the outfit alone had made Draco suspect someone had tried to impersonate his mother. After he’d threatened her with his wand he’d however quickly realised that the woman stood in front of him was indeed his mother. From then on things had gotten worse dramatically. The second his mother had laid eyes on Kayda she’d burst into tears and after Harry had handed her their tiny screaming bundle of joy, she’d stubbornly refused to hand her back, even going as far as to fall asleep with the new baby protectively cradled in her arms.

James’ gurgle for attention pulled Draco out of his thoughts and he resolutely apologised to the elderly wizard he’d almost bumped into. He blew James a kiss and he stroked the little boy’s plump cheeks. James gave a happy laugh and Draco quietly found himself — once again — praising the baby carrier that was strapped to his front. The Muggle contraption ensured that he had his arms free yet also kept James close to him at all times. It provided James with a comfortable space close to Draco’s chest where he felt warm and safe. In the beginning Draco had loathed the contraption, resolutely telling Harry that he didn’t plan on being seen dead with it in public. But oh boy had he eaten his words...

Realising that his mother and his daughter had already vanished inside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Draco quicken his pace and the moment he burst through the door, one of George’s assistants — a lovely young witch — immediately latched onto Draco, babbling away about baby toys and other things he might be interested in. Draco craned his neck in an attempt to spot Kayda or his mother but he found neither one of them. Since the two of them were together he wasn’t overly worried, but the young witches’ mindless attempt to try and sell him stuff was fairly distracting. That and the fact that she alternated between flirting with Draco and cooing over his son. Draco couldn’t help but wonder whether George Weasley was to blame for this particularly persistent assistant. He smiled politely and distractedly continued to glance around the shop in another — likely fruitless — attempt to try and locate his mother and daughter. This time he was however lucky and he spotted Kayda talking to Uncle George. For her everyone was either an uncle or an aunt, though if they passed a certain age Kayda tended to refer to them as granny or granddad. He’d tried to stop her and was fairly convinced his mother hated being a grandmother — although her behaviour alluded that this was not the case.

In a desperate attempt to rid himself of the assistant that was currently so charmingly keeping him captive, Draco agreed to purchase a few items babies apparently found entertaining. He absent-mindedly handed the young witch a good few gallons, and he figured she would leave him be but soon discovered this would not be the case. She quite sneakily and most definitely purposefully kept him from making his way over to where Kayda was still laughing about something George Weasley had said. Draco racked his brain in an attempt to figure out what could have possessed his daughter that she so urgently needed to speak to a member of the Weasley family but it gave him a headache and so Draco abandoned that trail of thought entirely.

  
~*~*~*~

  
Draco watched with a smile as James happily grasped at the magical baby mobile that was floating above him — his mother had animated it with a rather lazy flick of her wand. James was on his back on his favourite blanket and looked utterly blissful. Well, as blissful as a tiny baby could look. Draco had asked his mother whether she fancied tea at their house and she’s agreed immediately. Draco was convinced it was merely so she could spend more time with her grandchildren but he didn’t hold that against her. Upon their return — the trip to Diagon Alley had remained largely uneventful though that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be in the papers tomorrow — the house elves had served them hot tea, coffee, little cakes and sandwiches in the winter garden. It was still relatively warm outside so there was no need for heating charms or cooling charms for that matter. Instead Draco had opened the large sliding doors that led out to the terrace and a light breeze provided them with fresh air. James’ play corner was of course sheltered from any drafts, the last Draco needed was having to tend to a sick child without being able to brew helping potions. He supposed, if it really came down to it, he could instruct Harry on how to do it, but then again, he simply didn’t trust Harry’s potion skills enough to allow him to ever brew anything even just remotely decent. It had been the cause of a discussion — well, argument, really — between them once or twice but Draco stubbornly remained convinced that his husband was a marvellous wizard but lacked any sort of skill when it came to brewing potions.

“Is there really nothing Harry can do?” Narcissa broke the comfortable silence and Draco shock his head, then took a few small sips from his coffee.

“He tried, believe me he tried.” Draco smiled. Kayda was deeply engrossed in devouring a piece of chocolate cake and her entire mouth was covered with chocolate, as were her small hands. Ordinarily Draco would simply cast a cleaning charm once she was done but at the moment that was entirely out of the question.

“It is outrageous they are trying to brand you as a bad parent. Would it help if I wrote to the department of maybe the minister himself?” Narcissa offered and Draco smiled again. Since the children had been born, he often wondered what had happened to his mother. She was unlike anyone he’d ever experienced. Heavens, she even wore jeans when she came to mind the children and once Draco had actually caught her on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor after Kayda had spilled some pumpkin juice. According to Tibby she’d refused to let the elves deal with it and it had taken Draco several moments to appease Tibby, who wondered whether Master Malfoy planned to dismiss him.

“Don’t bother, mother, dear. I thought I wouldn’t manage but I have since realised that I can live without my wand for another few weeks. I’ve everything I need right here.”

Narcissa nodded with a knowing smile, added a piece of sugar to her tea, stirred it carefully and then took a slow sip. “You may be quite right. You have done wonderfully for yourself, Draco.” She eventually said and Draco’s heart expanded at the unexpected praise, true though it was.

  
~*~*~*~

  
“Dada!” Kayda dashed up the stairs, meeting Draco half way. He bend forward and scooped her into his arms before planting a wet kiss on her nose. She giggled and kissed him right back. They laughed and Kayda asked about her little brother.

“He’s fast asleep.” Draco told her. Apparently it was entirely possible to get a child to fall asleep without the aid of a wand. Draco had done a bit of singing, cooing and well that had been pretty much it. Elsa’s eleven magic ensured the room was a peaceful and soothing place and even though the magic left Draco unaffected, he knew it was there. It had taken him about half an hour until James had fallen asleep and if everything went well he’d sleep for a good few hours before demanding to be fed. Elsa would most likely take care of that night feed.

“Let’s watch TV, yes?” Kayda said excitedly, her big grey eyes dancing with anticipation.

Draco grimaced but didn’t have the heart to say no. He hated that Muggle contraption but ever since Harry had taught Kayda how to use that remote control, she was unstoppable. Draco still couldn’t wrap his head around how the little box, that didn’t at all look like a wand and most definitely wasn’t one, could control the moving and talking pictures inside the television but trying to work it all out made his head hurt.

So instead of bothering with the impossible, Draco made his way into the living room — after the fire the elves had done a marvellous job at redecorating — and put Kayda down. She instantly grabbed the little box that controlled the television and with the push of a button she turned the TV on. The sudden noise startled Draco somewhat and as he settled on the sofa he asked Kayda to turn down the volume. She did and after a few more clicks she’d found a program she obviously liked to watch. Draco vaguely recalled having seen it before, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember what it was.

“Dada, I have something for you.” Kayda’s excited voice dragged Draco’s attention away from the television and he watched as his daughter pulled a long wooden box from underneath the sofa. She crawled into his lap and handed it to him. Draco frowned but accepted the unexpected gift anyway. “Uncle George helped me make that.” Kayda explained and Draco didn’t know what to expect as he opened the box. He was somewhat cautious. The moment he’d opened the box he didn’t know whether to laugh or frown. Inside the long box lay a wand that looked much like his own and unable to resist he stroked his fingers along the wood. It vibrated gently and Draco assumed the wand was able to recognise his magical signature but it didn’t feel as familiar as his own wand.

“Daddy said you might feel lonely without your wand so I asked Uncle George if he could make you one until you get yours back.” Kayda explained and Draco carefully removed the wand from its confinement and held it in his hand. He was sure this wasn’t his original wand and he highly doubted it was a real wand at all. George Weasley wasn’t a wandmaker. He didn’t have the ability to make a wand, yet this one looked remarkably real.

Draco swished the wand carefully and much to his surprise a series of tiny red sparks flew out of its tip. They gathered together, growing into a tiny red dragon that hovered just above the backrest of the sofa. Draco moved the wand gently and the red dragon followed its movements, flying gently towards Kayda and then back to its original position.

Kayda laughed with amusement and with the television all but forgotten, her tiny hands reached out to capture the conjured magical creature. Draco allowed it to nozzle her fingers gently, then he send it on a short flight around the room before allowing it to settle on Kayda’s outstretched palm. The little girl gasped and instinctively reached out to stroke the tiny dragon. It moulded into her gentle touch but soon enough it disappeared with a soft pop.

“It’s an illusion, sweetheart.” Draco explained. “Do you know what that is?” He asked and Kayda shock her head.

“In illusion is something we think we see, or a bit of magic that tricks our senses. This little dragon tricked your little eyes into believing it was real.” Draco explained and swishing the wand again, he was surprised to see green sparks fly from it. They gathered together and formed a snake. It hissed quite authentically and Draco moved the wand so the snake would coil itself around Kayda’s forearm. For a moment she looked apprehensive, then she stroked the tiny creature gently and smiled.

Draco smiled and managed to resist the urge to poke his tongue out at the television. In the battle of Magic vs Muggle contraptions, Magic was clearly in the lead. Even without his wand.

Draco entertained his daughter for another while but she soon grew tired and less than an hour later she was fast asleep in his arms. Draco didn’t have the heart to carry her upstairs and so he sat quietly with the television muted. He’d placed the wand back inside its box and while doing so a hand-written note had fallen out. It was from George and unfolding it, Draco began to read.

 

  
_Draco,_

_Harry told me all about the Ministry’s quest to make your life a bit of a living hell. This wand is my latest invention. It isn’t for sale yet. It doesn’t do much except conjure up magical creatures that will vanish after a while, but when Kayda asked me for a wand for you — I reckon she must have seen/remembered our toy wand collection? — I thought this might be right for you. I hope you’ll get through the remainder of the month and if I could I’d help you hex the Ministry. Idiots!_

_Keep your chin up._

_George W._

 

  
Draco smiled. Trust Harry to find a way, even if not directly, to help distract him from his current predicament. Draco made a mental note to give Harry a special thank you when the other wizard returned tomorrow and putting both the letter and wand box away, Draco wrapped his arms around Kayda and his last conscious thought was that he would use the remaining three weeks, until the Ministry would return his wand to him, to learn everything he possibly could about Muggle life. With that thought he fell asleep to the steady sound of his daughter’s breathing, blissfully unaware of Tibby covering them both with a blanket and snapping his fingers to turn off the television.

**The End**


End file.
